


Break The Rules

by DoctorFitzy (KittooningMalijah)



Series: Angel With A Shotgun [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent, Gen, Hydra AU, this is the au i'm choosing to live in now that i've dropped the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 12:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7103380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittooningMalijah/pseuds/DoctorFitzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d lost hope, or at least what he had left of it, and his outburst at the monolith was enough to make that clear to everyone. ‘Everyone’ just happened to include Coulson, and SHIELD’s director didn’t think one of the organization’s best should be wasting his time on a project that might never be useful. [canon divergent from 3x01]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break The Rules

**Author's Note:**

> In this series of fics, I do (and will continue to) heavily imply that Fitz has depression, and while it has yet to be said outright, it may be triggering to some readers.

          _Amazing, fascinating,_ and _interesting_  all had so many positive connotations, it was almost impossible to believe that they could also be used to describe the worst day of Leopold Fitz’s life. It wasn’t like it had started out that way -- he’d had a lead for the first time in weeks, and he’d followed it to Morocco after going through about a dozen other countries first. With how it had started, it actually seemed like it was going to be a _good_  day, potentially even the day he got Jemma back. And, while the task had been dangerous, to say the least, he’d gotten the artifact he’d needed, and he was only a flight away from quite possibly the most important clue of his entire investigation.

          It all went downhill from there.

          The flight itself wasn’t so bad, but he was impatient. That alone was enough to make the hours feel like days, the scroll casing -- and the presumed document inside -- feeling heavier in his hands with each passing second. Still, even when the autopiloted quinjet landed itself in the main garage, he was hopeful. And that was the worst part. So much of him believed that it was almost over, that there would be some sudden answer after weeks of nothing just because he wished for it hard enough, and the wake up call he was dreading was right around the corner.

          It was _interesting_ , that hope of his that always held out until the last possible moment, beyond all logic and reason. He’d hoped that Ward wasn’t Hydra, or would at least choose otherwise when it came down to it, and that the team would accept Skye after what had happened down in that temple, and that they could all work _together_  to get Jemma back from whatever that rock had done, but _none of those things_  had played out in his favor. For a man so devoted to science and using his head, he tended to put a lot of faith into his _heart_ , and it always came back to bite him, without fail.

          It was _fascinating_ , the way he could feel a million things in one moment, from the _hope_ he was so desperate to cling to, all the way down to unadulterated _grief_ at the other end of the spectrum. One second, he was opening the yellowed paper that would tell him how to save what sanity he had left, and in the next, that same document was making his entire world crumble at its foundation.

          It was _amazing_ , how little his own life meant to him when so much had been taken away. He’d lost his friends, he’d lost his genius, he’d lost his mind, and for as long as the universe was going to take and take and _take_ , he didn’t have any choice but to give it all he had. So, when it finally took his best friend away from him with only one word, he set out to give it all he had left.

          The fact that he could walk through the hallways the way he did, not even bothering to try to be quiet. If anyone tried to stop him, they wouldn’t succeed, and he didn’t _want_ them to. Jemma was _gone_ , and if the parchment he’d retrieved on his last mission was to be trusted, then there wasn’t a point in going after another lead. If it was _wrong_  -- well, then his plan would still work, because it would bring him right to her.

          Fitz knew he should stop to think about what he was doing. Everything seemed to blend together, from grabbing the gun from the rack to standing in front of the monolith, and he couldn’t even remember what order he’d done it all in, but all that mattered was making sure he was heard.

          He’d told Bobbi he was following a lead, but he’d given up on trying to get anyone’s _help_  months before. They were all too busy, focusing on fish oil creating new Inhumans or keeping the organization from falling apart all over again, and he understood exactly why they were doing that, but his priorities were different. Even if Inhumans were out there, even if SHIELD wasn’t around, the monolith and Jemma would always be a problem to find a solution to, and he intended to be the one who found it. That meant he was alone, working on the most important project he’d ever taken on, and having one person who knew how to contact him while he was away wasn’t going to change that. All it meant was that someone could call him and find a way to drag him back to the base when he was needed for someone else’s agenda.

          Staring at the dark stone only inches away from him, he took a deep breath and pushed away the logical thought that reminded him of how dangerous his actions were. The odds were not in his favor, and there was a very good chance he’d end up dead, even if the monolith itself wasn’t the cause, but he’d stopped caring as soon as he’d first seen the surveillance tapes. If he couldn’t even manage to take care of the people he cared about the most, then what use was he?

          Even if it was, potentially, the end, he had to make sure he got his way -- _somehow_. There wasn’t a way to be sure the team would try to save him, if the parchment was wrong and he didn’t end up dead in some multidimensional space, or wherever it sent him, or whatever it did with what was left of him, but he could make sure they understood. The security cameras were something he was very aware of, and the fact that they would be monitored at some point in the night was something he knew, as well. At some point, someone would know what had happened to him, and they wouldn’t have to find him to understand why.

          “ _Do something_!”

          The words were aimed at too many people to count -- at SHIELD, for not doing anything to help him when they could have; at himself, for not finding a solution even after six months; at the monolith itself, for not responding to any of his previous attempts at understanding it and getting back one of the most important people in his life. It didn’t do much while he stood there, taking out all of his frustration and anger on a rock that didn’t make any sense.

          It still wasn’t listening -- if anything, it was _taunting_  him, continuing to do absolutely nothing as if he hadn’t lost absolutely everything. Fitz couldn’t _do anything_  to make it listen, and all at once, his past failures were clear. He couldn’t convince Ward to choose the team over Garrett; he couldn’t protect Skye from the team’s judgment; he couldn’t even protect Jemma from a slab of _stone_. He was entirely powerless to everything the universe through at him, and he had almost no help at all in handling it. Everything around him was changing and adapting, but even with the simplest problems, he was _useless_.

          “ _Do something_!”

          He repeated the words desperately, far less angry than he was only moments before. The scientist wasn’t screaming out his frustration anymore, he’d resorted to begging. _Do something_ , just once show that he could actually have _some_ effect on the things going on around him. _Do something_ , even if it was just taking him away like it had done with Jemma, because _anything_  was better than watching nothing change for so long. _Do something. Because I can’t._

The pain in his hands from hitting the monolith as hard as he was might as well have been nothing compared to the ache in his chest, the strange hurt that seemed to radiate out into every cell of his body. _Everything_  hurt, and the only thing that made it worse was _distance_.

          The monolith was still very clearly in his line of sight, but the feeling of the cold ground under him was enough of a distraction that his mind, already moving too quickly, had jumped to illogical conclusions. With the door of the glass case closed and so many people moving around, it was almost too easy to forget what he’d been doing only a few moments before. He was overwhelmed -- there were so many questions being thrown at him, as if they actually expected coherent answers after half hour he’d just suffered through, and none of their words actually made any sense to him. They overlapped, and blurred together, or were said too fast, and his brain shut down so that none of it actually processed into coherence. Finally, one voice broke through his jumbled thoughts, one question making itself clear and making everything else seem to disappear.

          “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

          Based on the scene they’d all burst in on, it was a reasonable question, but that didn’t make him any less uncomfortable. There wasn’t a right way to answer -- he couldn’t say _no_ , because it _was_ something that he’d taken into account when making his decision, a result he had accepted the possibility of, and if he said that, he’d be lying; but he couldn’t say _yes_ , either, because there were other scenarios that he was hoping for instead. The only answer he could rightfully give was that he didn’t know, but he didn’t have the time to find his voice while everyone rushed around him, Bobbi finally helping him to his feet from where he’d fallen.

          When he was standing again, the only thing that kept him from looking Coulson in the eye was their difference in height. Those few inches and his grief kept him from being able to actually read the older man’s expression and possibly decipher what he was thinking, and an uneasy feeling settled in the shorter agent’s chest when six words broke through the otherwise silent room.

          “Fitz. In my office. Ten minutes.”

* * *

 

          Ten minutes wasn’t a whole lot of time, but it was enough to change into clean, comfortable clothes and wash his face before stepping into the office belonging to SHIELD’s current director. If you were to ask him to describe it, Fitz wouldn’t be able to -- he knew about layout, obviously, and could create a vague image of the room in his mind, but it had been so long since he’d stepped foot in there, since he hadn’t been too busy with the monolith to actually _talk_  to someone for more than a few minutes at a time about something besides _that_. That’s what most of the mental images he had of the base were anymore, _vague_ , and _blurry_ , and _uncertain_.

          He sat down in the chair closest to the door, the fact that Coulson was plainly filling out a form of some sort making it clear that he was going to have to wait for at least a few moments. Without saying a word for a while, the engineer tried to sit up a bit straighter so that he could try to read the words being so hurriedly scribbled over the page, not that he could actually make any of it out from the angle he was at. Finally, after almost a full minute and a half of sitting in silence, he asked the question he was reluctant to hear the answer to. “What are you doing?”

          “I’m filing an incident report about what just happened.” The response was instantaneous, delivered entirely in a calm tone even while the report was slid into a file clearly labeled _Fitz, L_  on the front. Since the incident with the monolith, about a dozen incident had been added to his file, but regardless of the usual rules, SHIELD wasn’t going to get rid of him, seeing as he was one of their most valuable agents even after Hydra’s reveal. His file was thicker, and it would likely continue to grow until he got Jemma back. “Fitz, we need to have a talk.”  _Those_  words made him pause. He’d gotten countless lectures and scoldings, but never _a talk_. _A talk_  was about two steps above the practical groundings that he’d gotten before, not that he’d really listened to those, but _a talk_  made him worry. “I’ve been able to look the other way for a while, but things are getting out of hand. There are too many things that you’ve been doing lately that I can’t allow.”

          Fitz shook his head quickly, trying to cut in as politely as possible so that he wouldn’t end up making things that much worse for himself. The situation was enough of a mess, and he didn’t need for it to escalate. “Sir, I don’t know if-”

         “You stole a quinjet for this, Fitz.”

          “I _borrowed_  a quinjet.”

          “And now you’re pulling a stunt like this? No, I’m putting my foot down. We’re already down more than a few agents, and you’re going around doing things that could potentially get you killed, and I can’t allow you to risk that.” There was a short moment of pause before Coulson took a breath, his next words just as calm as every other sentence he’d uttered. “I can’t allow you to do any more work with the monolith.”

          The scientist was shocked into silence for a long moment, scrambling for words once he had the ability to come up with a vaguely coherent thought. Not being allowed to work on the monolith was crazy, and there was no way he’d actually listen to that rule, either. “Sir, you can’t honestly expect me to be in the same building as the monolith all the time and just _ignore_  that it exists-”

          “You’re right, I can’t.” SHIELD’s director paused for a moment, setting the file at the edge of his desk and out of the way before speaking again. “That’s why you won’t _be_  in the same building as the monolith anymore. I’m sorry, Fitz, but this is crossing a line. I can’t allow that kind of behavior around the base. Pack your things.”

          Fitz fell silent again, not entirely sure of how he was supposed to respond to something like that. The words themselves hadn’t been said, but he knew what was being said -- he was being kicked off the base, basically _fired_ , because he’d gotten desperate. He had been putting so much of himself into getting Jemma back, and then it blew up on his face.

          After some time, he realized that he _couldn’t_  react; he was too numb and exhausted to process it all properly, but he _had_  to process it, especially when Coulson continued with words that snapped him back into reality. “You have until tomorrow afternoon to have all of your things together, and then you will not be allowed on this base or into any other SHIELD facility -- indefinitely. Maybe, in a few months, a year, you can come back and be an agent again, but the risks you’ve been taking are enough to prove to me that you can’t be one right now.”

          This time, there was no hesitation, and he was on his feet quickly. Choosing the seat closest to the door was a good option, and it would let him leave sooner, but not before he made one final move. If SHIELD didn’t want him around, then he wouldn’t make them suffer through his presence. He wasn’t a good agent, that’s what was being made clear, and that was fine with him. SHIELD wanted an agent that would be obedient, and follow orders, and not care about the consequences would be created in any kind of fallout -- and that included if they happened to lose one of their own. They wanted robots and machines, and there was one thing Fitz could do that made it clear he wasn’t going to be someone like that. Taking a breath, he managed a tight smile and forced out the words in an overly pleasant tone -- just because he was falling apart didn’t mean he had to show it. “Don’t worry about it, sir. I’ll get my things together, and I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

* * *

 

          He was gone before the sun was up, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone around the base before leaving. There wasn’t a point in it -- hardly anyone had ever noticed he was gone when he was following leads about the monolith, and no one gave him any reason to think that would change if he was gone for a little while longer. Or forever, which seemed more and more likely the further he drove away from the base.

          The car he took was left in a parking lot a few blocks down from where he got a hotel room for the night, and he knew SHIELD would pick it up in a matter of days. Before that happened, he needed to be as far away as possible, but not until after a good night’s sleep.

          For weeks, Fitz moved around as much as he could, staying under SHIELD’s radar and using what money he had to keep himself alive. He had his laptop, and all of the information he’d gathered on the monolith was on a separate flash drive that he carried on him at all times, hidden in his shoe so that it couldn’t be taken from him easily if anyone happened to track him down. So long as he could work quietly, with no interruptions, and no need for him to turn around and follow some order instead of following leads, he could continue to add information to the files, but it could only happen for as long as he could _find_  new information, and there was one important road block that slowed him down.

          Without access to the monolith, he couldn’t use the DWARFs -- that he didn’t even have -- to run regular scans, and he couldn’t know for sure if there was any change, and he couldn’t study it the way he needed to in order to get the information he _needed_. And he wouldn’t be able to test any theory he happened to stumble upon. The former SHIELD agent knew he would need _help_ , but there were very few people that would be willing to help him with something as big as this, and going to any one of them made him uneasy. Strangely enough, the person he chose to ask first would have been the very last person on his list only few months before, but that had been when Fitz was still a SHIELD agent, and not working on something in his old organization’s possession without their knowledge.

          The meeting had been arranged so that it would be in a public place, where enough people would be around that it would be so busy that no one would pay attention to what they were actually saying, but there would be witnesses for if anything went wrong. It was safer that way, for both parties involved, and it meant that he didn’t have to keep his guard up quite so much. _That_  was the best part, after spending over a month looking over his shoulder.

          Sliding into a seat by one of the big windows at the coffee shop, he kept his eyes on the door and took a deep breath while adjusting the dark beanie on his head. If the meeting went bad, then he could make a break for it and try some other source for help -- chances were, he’d need at least two possible exits, with who he wanted to actually speak to. Everything was almost certain to fall apart within the first few minutes, and he wanted to be prepared.

          “According to a little birdie, you want to talk to my boss.”

          Fitz tensed immediately at the unfamiliar voice, watching closely while the _much taller_  man sat in the seat across from him at the small table. Really, he didn’t have any reason to be worried yet, not when nothing had even really been said, but he was still incredibly intimidated. Though he knew he’d never admit as much out loud, the Scotsman knew he was smaller than most people, and his lack of combat training would only make that worse for him if it came down to it. This could be... _interesting_.

          After a short moment of silence, the other man spoke up again before it could stretch out for too long, a remarkable contrast to the last conversation that Fitz had had with any member of SHIELD. “Unfortunately for you, you have to go through me, first. I’m going to ask some questions, and you’re going to answer them honestly, and if you don’t, then there will be consequences. Is that understood?”

          Taking a breath to buy himself a bit of time, the scientist nodded his head and shifted in his chair so that he could sit up straighter. With the movement, he could feel the flash drive move against the side of his foot, doing his best to keep his voice calm despite his nerves. “Of course. It’s a security thing, I get it.”

          There. He got the words out without showing his panic, and that was far too big of an accomplishment for the day he was having. It wasn’t like he was going to let himself get hopeful all over again, but this was the closest he’d been to any kind of breakthrough since he was forced off of SHIELD’s base, and he wasn’t just going to let it slip through his fingers because he happened to be a bit nervous. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t like he had any other options. He was desperate, and it would show to anyone who knew him, and it was the only reason he was using _this_  contact over any of his others.

          “What is it that you want to gain from speaking with Mr. Ward?”

          It took a moment for Fitz to breathe again, still clearly tense no matter how much he tried to hide it. Going to his ex-teammate of all people wasn’t ever a part of his plans before, but if he wasn’t going to get any help from the people who claimed to care about him, then he was left to go to someone else -- _anyone_ else. “I need someone with resources, and he happened to be the first person to come to mind. I can’t give away too many details without speaking to Ward personally. It’s a leverage thing; you understand.”

          He got a short nod in response, and he almost thought there was going to be another question before the man across from him lifted a hand to his ear. _Of course_ , it wasn’t like only one agent was going to be sent along for a risky meeting -- Hydra was smarter than that, _Ward_ was smarter than that -- and it made perfect sense that there might be comms in use at any point, but that only made the scientist that much more nervous. This meeting had suddenly gotten a lot more dangerous for him. For all he knew, there were dozens of agents right there in the coffee shop, and he would easily be overtaken if he tried to run, and he didn’t even have anything to defend himself with.

           A long moment of quiet passed before Fitz sat up straighter again, the return of conversation doing very little to boost his confidence. “Our agents did a sweep. There’s no SHIELD here. Why?”

          There was no doubt that the question would have come about eventually, but there was still no way to answer it without giving away a bit of information he didn’t want to share. Then again, that could be because the information he didn’t want to share was _the answer_. If Hydra knew that he wasn’t a part of SHIELD anymore, that would leave him even more vulnerable than he was before, and he wasn’t at all equipped to handle a situation like that if it were to escalate. The fact that he _had_  to answer left him feeling cold and terrified.

           “Let’s just say my alliances have changed recently. SHIELD wants nothing to do with me and I want nothing to do with them.”

          In a matter of seconds the Hydra lackey he’d been having a supposed meeting with was pulling out a buzzing phone. Obviously, patience was not something the person on the other side of the line considered a strong suit. Still, it bought Fitz a bit of time so that he could try to calm down, take deep breaths and stop his fingers from shaking from where his hands rested at the edge of the table, and he used the opportunity to listen to the one side of the conversation he could hear.

          “No, he doesn’t appear to be lying. Yes, he does seem nervous. Of course. I can do that, sir. Yes. Yes. Yes. Okay. It’s not a problem at all, _Mr. Ward_.” It was clear from the emphasis that he was supposed to know who was giving the orders, whatever they were, and the Scot took a breath before forcing himself to try to relax. So far, this was a _good_  sign, and he refused to see the negative side of things until there was a reason to. Soon enough, the phone was tucked away and he was being spoken to again, and he had very good reason to pay attention. “Dr. Fitz, it appears as though my boss would like a personal meeting with you. If it would make you more comfortable, you can call me Kebo, but don’t get _too_  comfortable with the idea -- I’ve worked for Mr. Ward for a while now, and I doubt you’ll be around for very long. You’re going to come with me, I’m going to blindfold you, and then we’ll drive to a classified location for your private meeting. If there’s any funny business at all, your next meeting is cancelled, and I _really_  don’t think you’ll get a chance for another one.”

* * *

 

          Fitz didn’t see any reason to _not_  cooperate. If they were going to kill him, they’d had plenty of opportunities to do so, and even if his next meeting didn’t go so well, at least he’d made it this far. It was more than he could say for _SHIELD’s_  efforts. They hadn’t lifted a finger to help him after the first few weeks, as if one of their own hadn’t been taken, as if Jemma had never meant a thing to them, and the fact that he’d stayed for as long as he did was entirely connected to the fact that _they_  had the monolith and he needed it so that he could keep running tests. He hadn’t stuck around because he felt any kind of connection to those people -- they’d been his friends in the past, and he’d liked to think they still were, but that had changed -- he had stuck around for _her_. Getting his best friend back was still his number one priority, even if it took working with the enemy to succeed.

          He could tell when the van was coming to a stop after about an hour and a half of travel -- half of it was more than likely to be circles and loops to throw him off so that he wouldn’t be able to track down the location again later, but he wasn’t paying attention to which direction they were moving in. It didn’t matter to him. No matter where the meeting was being held, he would still be facing the same person and all but begging for help, and that was the part he would need to focus on.

          While he was being led from the van to wherever he would be having his meeting with Ward, the engineer took a few deep breaths to keep himself calm and went over what little of a pitch he had. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t win over his former teammate with what he knew about the monolith if he was panicking, which meant controlling his nerves was at the top of his to do list -- which was much easier to do when he’d had the time to prepare for the meet up, days of it, and not just a couple of hours in a quinjet while worrying about a dozen other things on top of it. Seeing Grant Ward again wouldn’t be easy, but at least he could keep himself calm when he knew exactly what he was getting into.

          Doors opened and closed around him, and he could hear the quiet _squeak_  in the hinges of the last doorway he was led through by the strong hand on his arm. He’d been assuming it was Kebo, but he was also sure he could be entirely wrong. It wasn’t like he spent his days studying Hydra’s agents so that he would know who was taking him from place to place. Finally, he was pushed down into a chair, his knees hitting whatever was in front of him when he tried to react to the sudden shift. Without a word, the agent who had led him in tied his wrists to the arms of the chair, pulling the blindfold away from his eyes so that he could see around the small room.

          His assumption about Kebo was wrong, which was made very clear by the woman leaning against the table directly in front of him, and he only had a few moments to take in as much as he could before she spoke. She was in heels, and for a moment he was impressed with the fact that he’d not heard the clicking of them against the floor on their way in. She was dressed like a civilian, and if he hadn’t known that this meeting was arranged and choreographed to go as smoothly as possible, he would have thought that she’d just wandered in off the street. Still, that wasn’t thing thing he was most distracted by -- that would be her _eyes_. They were a very normal shade of green until she blinked, and then he was distracted by the bright red irises that swept over him quickly.

          “You’re unarmed. Normally, I’d take that flash drive in your shoe, but I’m assuming that’s something you’ll need during this meeting. Mr. Ward will be in shortly. Good luck.”

          Fitz stayed silent when he watched her go, admittedly confused by her smile even while he took a deep breath. He was there, now, inside whatever base or safe house Hydra was hiding out in, and he had no way of getting out of there if things went wrong. His hands were literally tied, and he didn’t have a way of squirming out of it, not even to get the drive out of his shoe so that he could prove that he had useful information.

          From what he could tell, the room was small, and there was no furniture except for the chair he was sitting in, the table in front of him, and the chair on the other side. It was an interrogation room, he could see that much, and that was almost made it easier for him to relax. If he was going to answer some more questions, that meant he could easily buy more time to make his case, and injuries were less likely to be inflicted if he was willing to cooperate -- and he was, if it meant potentially gaining access to the monolith.

          When the door swung open again, Fitz sat up straighter and took a deep breath so that he could at least appear calm, no matter how much he didn’t feel like it. As long as he didn’t have to say anything just yet, he would be able to keep his mask in place, and that was really all he could hope for considering who he was going to be speaking to.

          He didn’t pull his eyes away while Ward sat down in the chair across from him, setting down a tablet that would presumably be used to record their conversation or check facts to make sure he wasn’t being lied to. It made sense, no matter how uneasy it made him, and that was the only thing that kept him quiet. Logic was important at a time like this, when saying one wrong thing because he didn’t think about it could lead to a horrible outcome.

          Suddenly, the scientist was very much aware of how he must look in that moment. Since leaving SHIELD, he hadn’t exactly been sleeping well, and it likely showed in the bags under his eyes, and even his clothes made it that much more obvious. The knit beanie on his head was such a dark shade of blue that it was practically black, and it didn’t sit straight no matter how much he would try to adjust it; the sweatshirt he wore was about two and a half sizes too big, hanging off of his smaller frame in a way that might actually make him look unhealthily underfed, which was only emphasized by how he had the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Without anyone to help him look over his shoulder at every turn, he hadn’t really been taking care of himself as much as he should have been, but there were things that took higher priority -- like research -- and he couldn’t take time away from that for something as trivial as a decent lunch.

          There was silence while Fitz stared at his old teammate, refusing to move in his seat to even get more comfortable just in case it was misinterpreted. His only real goal in that moment was to not antagonize anyone, and especially not the one person he really needed to be on his side. He knew other people that might have access to the resources he needed, but organizing another meeting would take too much time that he didn’t have to waste. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, working with Ward was his best option.

          “Hey, Fitz. Long time no see.” The words made him tense again, though he didn’t dare say anything in return. There was still too much risk involved in opening his mouth when he didn’t have any questions to answer -- giving away anything too soon when he might not need to give up the information at all could be extremely dangerous. Keeping as much to himself as possible was ideal, and he was prepared to make that very clear. Of course, it wouldn’t be as easy to do in practice as in theory, based on the next words that left the head of Hydra’s mouth. “You wanted this meeting, so you get to tell me why. I’ll hold my questions until the end, and I’ll be recording everything. You’ll still be tied up, for my own safety, but otherwise, you have complete control of the situation.”

          That was enough to make the engineer scoff, shaking his head and not bothering to even try and fix his sweatshirt when it shifted with his movement while he leaned forward. Being able to direct the conversation was generous, and he knew that, but it wasn’t exactly much in the way of _control_. “So, I have no control at all?”

          He got a small shrug in return, but he didn’t miss the way Ward’s eyes made a sweep over him. Something changed, then, and he could feel it in the air, not that he dared to make a comment about it. “I wouldn’t say _no_  control. You can make requests, or explain why you need to talk to me so much -- it’s not like you’re a prisoner here.”

          “No, I’m just tied to a chair and I’m not allowed to anywhere.” Fitz shook his head again before sitting back in his seat, letting out a careful breath. The mental preparation he did before their meeting certainly helped with his nerves, but it wasn’t quite enough to stop his trembling fingers while he gripped the arms of the chair. “I came so that I could ask for help, not attack you. You already know I’m not armed, it’s not like you actually have anything to worry about.”

          It was a miracle that his voice didn’t shake when he spoke, if his fingers were anything to go by, and it still took a moment before he could breathe again. The fact that he was barely holding himself together wasn’t exactly something that was easy to hide, but that didn’t stop him from trying, keeping his tight grip on the chair so that his trembling fingers would be easier to control.

          Before he could lose the opportunity, Fitz make himself speak up again, hurrying to get out what he needed as quickly as possible. “Look, regardless of how you want to treat me, I’ll keep my _requests_  simple. Like I said, I need help, and SHIELD won’t give it to me, so my options are rather limited.”

          Even he could tell that his voice was weaker than it was just at the coffee shop, and while he could easily blame it on being thirsty, he also knew that wasn’t entirely true. He needed to get Ward -- and Hydra -- on his side, and quickly, so that he could get a full night’s rest, if that was even possible when he would be going right back to looking over his shoulder every few steps. That only made him more desperate. The sooner he could figure everything out and get Jemma back, the sooner he could stop doing things behind SHIELD’s back and risking his life in the process.

          “Oh, yeah? What kind of help?”

          It really was a simple question, but the answer was much more complicated than that. There were too many things that Fitz needed, and he couldn’t honestly expect to get everything. He needed space to work, and a better way to store and organize the information he had, and actually get the monolith, and have an area to put it where not just anyone could access it. He couldn’t exactly store it in his hotel room -- that was far too dangerous, for himself and anyone nearby -- not that he was going to ask for Hydra’s space to work on something so important. They might watch him too closely, figure out what it is he was doing and sabotage all of his efforts. But step one wasn’t to do more research, or follow leads to some other corner of the world, or borrow a plane. There was something far more important that needed to be done first.

          “I need you to help me steal from SHIELD.”

          The response he got then was nothing more than a short laugh, and the fact that he could actually see Ward _smile_  didn’t quite make sense considering the situation. It wasn’t even a smile, it was a _grin_ , and it took a moment before it seemed like he was anywhere close to speaking, very clearly holding back more laughter. “I’m sorry? You want to steal from your own organization? Wait, no, they want nothing to do with you, and you want nothing to do with them. Except you want something they have. Right.” He laughed again, louder this time, while getting to his feet and shaking his head with his grin still in place, as if he was actually _amused_  by the fact that his old teammate had come asking for help, and his reaction wasn’t making it that much harder just to stay together. “No. Absolutely not. Think over what you want, and if you change your request, I’ll think about doing what I can. But _that_? Not in a million years, Fitz. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

          Without another word, the engineer was stuck watching the door swinging shut again, the _click_  of it locking into place making him let out a sigh. And then he was alone again, stuck with his thoughts.

* * *

 

         Fitz didn’t remember falling asleep. He didn’t even remember closing his eyes, but all it had taken was a well timed blink, and he was catching up on nights’ worth of missed sleep, too exhausted to care about where he was. When he woke up again, his hands weren’t tied, and his arms were being used as a makeshift pillow on the table of the same interrogation room he’d been dropped in when he first got there. It didn’t escape his notice that the chair across from him wasn’t empty, but instead of a person sitting there, it was a paper bag. Carefully, he got to his feet to investigate, getting close enough to peer inside at the short stack of paper wrapped burgers before the door to the room suddenly swung open.

          “You can have a couple of those.”

          The sound of Ward’s voice was enough to make him flinch, quickly stepping back toward his own side of the table with a weak frown. His nap had left him vulnerable, and there hadn’t been any thought put into what he was actually doing when he got up, but he knew immediately that he didn’t want to start a disagreement over _burgers_. The Scotsman was supposed to be there to make an arrangement, and was practically a prisoner with how they were keeping him locked away in one room, not get caught snooping.

          He almost started to panic while he dropped back into his own chair, and then the bag was moved to the table. Something about the air in the room made it easier to take a deep breath and at least _appear_ relaxed, and there was a moment where he could have sworn his former teammate’s gaze flickered over to him before moving back to the bag, but the combination of an empty stomach and little sleep was enough to make him brush it off. There was no universe where Grant Ward would ever be concerned about his well being, that much he was certain of.

          “I wasn’t kidding, you know.” A few moments later, one of the small burgers was set in front of him, and Fitz had to resist a very strong urge to reach out and take it too quickly. It was a greasy, unhealthy, fast food burger that wouldn’t actually do much to fill him up, but it _smelled_  amazing, and every part of him was screaming to be fed something other than granola bars and trail mix and pretzels for the first time since leaving SHIELD. “Have you thought about what you actually want to gain from meeting with me? If robbery is off the table?”

          The words were almost enough to shake his attention away from the food, and he took the warm paper package in both hands to slowly unwrap it. He had questions to answer again, and that was fine, he could answer questions, but it had to be done between bites -- or while he was chewing, depending on just how hungry he actually was. “That’s the only part I need your help with. I can do the rest myself.”

          That much was true. As soon as he got access to the monolith again, he didn’t want to drag anyone else into his mission, least of all someone he didn’t even trust. It was far too important of a task to take any risks beyond those that were absolutely necessary.

          Although, with the look directed his way while he started in on his burger, he knew he’d have to do a bit of explaining. Finishing his bite quickly, Fitz set the remainder of the burger and the paper it had been wrapped in on the table before clearing his throat, going over the words in his head once before saying them aloud.

          “SHIELD has an artifact that I’d been working with for months, trying to understand how it works. I used SHIELD’s resources to follow leads, and the last one took me to Morocco. There was a scroll that was supposed to tell me what it did, but when it didn’t and I reacted, Coulson said that I _can’t be an agent right now_ and that he _couldn’t allow that kind of behavior around the base_.” He let out a slow breath, pushing himself back from the table enough to bend down and pull the flash drive out of his shoe. Holding it up, he didn’t dare move his chair closer to the table again. For the moment, it was in his hand and out of Ward’s reach, and that’s how it would stay in an ideal situation. “On this is everything I know about the artifact, but I can’t test any of my theories if I don’t have access to it. I can get in on my own, I know their security system, but I can’t move the artifact, let alone get it out. It’s too big.” If he didn’t have enough upper body strength to begin with, he certainly wouldn’t have enough after weeks on his own, not when he’d lost so much weight and muscle mass.

          There was a long stretch of silence before a hand was held out toward him, and the scientist tensed instinctively. He wasn’t going to just _hand over_  the information he’d worked so hard for, not without a very good reason. His back pressed against the chair to show his reluctance, and his lungs filled themselves with air slowly even while he was being spoken to. “Fitz, I can’t help unless I know what I’m dealing with. If I do help, I’ll go in with a small team of my agents, and you’ll stay behind. We’ll deliver the artifact to you if we can secure it.”

          “ _No_.” He shook his head quickly, moving back to the edge of his seat while speaking that much louder. “I’m not letting _anyone_  near it without being there myself. It’s too dangerous, and I’m the only one who knows what you’d really be up against. The artifact, it’s a monolith, and I think it’s Kree. It’s not from Earth, I know that. It melts, kind of -- it turns from a solid to a liquid suddenly, and there’s no way to predict it. Believe me, I’ve _tried_. If anyone is too close when it changes, they’ll be taken away.”

          Silence fell between them again, and Fitz didn’t care about the kind of information he’d just given away with his outburst. He had a number of theories to test, and he could potentially stop anyone else from being taken, but only if he was _there_  with them -- and, if it finally gave Jemma back when the monolith was in Hydra’s possession, he _definitely_  needed to be nearby, to explain things, at the very least.

          The silence was broken again when Ward spoke slowly, making a point of holding the younger man’s gaze. “It takes people.” It wasn’t a question, and the air between them shifted again while he got to his feet with a small frown. Whatever he was about to say, it was the most important thing he’d said since their meeting had began, and Fitz hung on to every word. “Finish your food. After that, a few of my people will drop you back off at the coffee shop. Go get your things from wherever you’ve been staying, and then meet up there again. If I’m going to help you, I’d rather do it at a proper base.”

* * *

 

          He was blindfolded for all of it. The route they’d taken back to the coffee shop was shorter than the first trip, which only confirmed his earlier theory about being driven in circles and misled, and after he’d returned with his bags, the next drive was just as mysterious. Even when he was led up a ramp and forced into a stiff seat, the blindfold was kept in place, and he didn’t even try to fight it. What was the point? He was getting the help he needed, and he wasn’t going to argue with the terms of that agreement just because he was a bit uncomfortable.

          The feeling of an arm pressed against him through the entire flight was just a reminder of how little they trusted him, and that was fine. It wasn’t like he trusted _them_  any more. Trust wasn’t exactly necessary for what he was after, and Fitz was perfectly okay with not having any conversation with Hydra outside of professional planning. He wasn’t around to make friends; he was there for a purpose.

          They finally removed the cloth over his eyes after the plane landed, and the engineer was happy to be allowed to walk down the ramp on his own. He was in an unfamiliar place, so it wasn’t like he could use the knowledge of his surroundings to fight and overtake them -- he was just one man against an entire organization. No attempt to get the upper hand would even remotely succeed. When he turned around to ask for his things, Kebo, the only other person on the plane he recognized, gave a rough shove to his shoulder.

          “Keep moving. Mr. Ward has already given us orders regarding where to put your things. He wants to speak to you as soon as possible.”

          There wasn’t any way for him to argue, considering his position, and he let himself be led down the hall without a word. If Ward wanted to talk about the monolith, that could potentially mean speeding up the process of getting it from SHIELD, and that meant getting Jemma back that much sooner. From his side of things, the first meeting they’d had couldn’t have gone any better.

          Stepping slowly into the small office, Fitz wasn’t at all surprised when he was ignored for a few moments -- his experience with Coulson and SHIELD was enough for him to know that running an organization was difficult, and taking time away from that to deal with one person wasn’t always worth it. When he _was_  finally noticed, his former teammate gave a wave of his hand to beckon him closer. “Come on in -- just close the door and sit down. We need to have a discussion before we even think about SHIELD. If you want my help, I have a few conditions.” The scientist gave a small nod of his head before closing the door and crossing the room to sit down in one of the open chairs, this time shrugging so that he could adjust his sweatshirt when it started to slip down his shoulder. If there were rules, he could follow them, so long as it meant he would still get what he needed out of the deal. “Until the time comes when we have to actually break into SHIELD’s base to get that artifact, you’ll be staying here. I can keep an eye on you here, make sure you’re not sending messages to Coulson or anyone else. It’s mostly a security precaution.”

          When he nodded, he knew his top layer shifted again, and he crossed his arms while sitting back in the seat, hoping to keep the material in place. He’d only been away from SHIELD for a little over a month, but the clothes that he’d gotten when he first started working under their radar were already more than a little big. Even the beanie on his head seemed bigger, no matter how impossible he knew that was. He didn’t need a PhD to know that he wasn’t taking care of himself the way he should have been, but as soon as he got the monolith, and could use all of his research to get Jemma back, _then_  he could worry about eating properly and getting a decent amount of rest. “I can do that. Just tell me where I need to stay and I won’t get in the way of anyone.”

          Ward gave a small nod in return, staying quiet for a long moment before taking a breath and speaking again. “Second condition -- when we get the artifact, you’ll continue to stay here. I can have a space set aside in the basement for you to work, and you can keep all of your research there, if you want to. If it’s as dangerous as you say, it will be best to keep it in a controlled location.”

          Hesitating for a moment, Fitz made himself nod again. They were simple conditions, and they made sense, no matter how much he wanted to keep his distance from Hydra. This was the only option he had anymore, and he was desperate, and beggars couldn’t be choosers.

          For a long moment, silence fell between them again, and he was uncomfortable enough with it to reach up to adjust the hat on his head. He couldn’t predict how many more conditions he might have to comply with, not with now little he _actually_ knew about the man across from him, but he’d have to -- he’d been the one to call the first meeting, and while he had gotten to voice what he wanted from whatever deal they were making, it was Hydra’s turn to set their terms.

          “There will be other rules, while you’re here, and I may change a few of them if I feel like that’s something that needs to be done. They’re simple, but if they’re going to be any problem, this will give you the time to tell me so that I don’t waste my resources and agents on going after SHIELD just because you’re asking me to.” He watched Ward reach over toward the laptop perched on the desk, waking up the screen with a swipe of his finger over the track pad. Clearly, this was a list he couldn’t spout off the top of his head, or, at the very least, something he’d put time and effort into -- and Fitz didn’t know if he should be flattered or worried or both. “Most of these are regarding the behavior I expect while you’re here. Where you are or aren’t allowed to be, what you’ll have to do while you’re here-”

          “And if I don’t follow your _rules_? What then?”

          After only a beat of silence, he got his answer, and it wasn’t one he necessarily liked. “Then you leave, and I don’t help you anymore. If we have the artifact by that point, it will stay here, on my base, and you’ll have to find some other person to help you. I’m changing this list -- number one is no interrupting me.” The scientist nodded his head slowly, shifting in his seat and crossing his arms again with a small frown. “Two -- you’re allowed in your living area, the cafeteria, my office, and the basement. If you want to go anywhere else, for any reason, you see me about it first. I’m helping you, but this base is not a playground.”

          With a scoff, Fitz used the short pause to cut in as quickly as possible. It didn’t count as interrupting if nothing was actually being _said_  in that moment. “I’m not a child. I can keep myself in a few main spaces -- and I don’t think I’ll ever have a need to come back in here.” It was a lie, obviously, and he knew he’d need to be in that office quite a few times if only to plan for how they were going to get the monolith from SHIELD, and potentially a few times after that to discuss actually testing his theories, but his harsh tone was what he wanted to convey. He was smaller than the last time they’d seen each other, nearly a year before, when SHIELD themselves had gone to Ward for help, but that didn’t mean he was any less capable of fighting back if he needed to.

          “ _Rule number three_ ,” he continued as if nothing had been said at all, glancing up at the Scotsman for a moment before looking back toward his typed list. “You will eat three meals a day. Don’t give me that look. You’re half the size you were a year ago, and you can’t take risks and break into SHIELD when you’re just skin and bones. You’ll get yourself hurt or killed that way. If you really want to put a lot of time into working on research, I can have someone bring you food three times a day. If you don’t eat, you’ll come sit in here until you do -- to me, that sounds like it would take more time away from working than just eating in the first place.”

          Slowly, the engineer took a deep breath before nodding his head again, choosing to stay silent. Saying anything would mean he was arguing, but this rule, to some extent, made the most sense. It basically boiled down to taking care of himself, and as low on his priorities list as that was, he wasn’t going to make it a deal breaker.

          The nod was the only signal that Ward needed to continue, eyes moving back to the laptop’s screen. “You’re not one of my agents, so I can’t regulate what you do and when like I do with everyone else, but to some extent, you do work for me -- temporarily, of course, I’m assuming you’ll leave and go back to SHIELD as soon as I help you get what you want. The last rule I have is that you work within a reasonable schedule. You can start as early as eight in the morning, and go until eight at night, but during the other twelve hours of the day, you won’t have access to the basement. Whatever you do in your living area is up to you, and if you bring research up with you, I can’t stop you, but the rule is in place so that you can get time to actually rest.”

          Instinctively, Fitz brought a hand up to rub his eyes at the comment, plainly frowning. The most sleep he’d gotten in months had been a nap _in Hydra’s custody_ , and while that could be both good and bad, he didn’t dare make a comment about it. If taking care of himself was part of the deal, not that he understood _why_ , he would do it, and he nodded to convey his thoughts. “Fine.”

          Nodding himself, Ward closed the laptop and got to his feet, suddenly seeming much bigger than he had been only a few minutes before. He had power, and it showed, and the idea of arguing with anything was gone. “Come on -- I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

* * *

 

          Despite how many times it was referred to as such, _living area_  didn’t quite cover it. It was above ground, up higher than the hangar he’d come in through, and while it _did_  have the basic necessities required to live, it had more than that, too. From how Ward had talked about it, he’d expected something more like a hotel room -- a bed, a table and chairs, maybe a bathroom of his own -- but this was so much bigger.

          Walking in, the first room was almost twice the size of what he was expecting the entire place to be, with a small kitchen off to one side and a sitting room straight ahead. The hallway across from the kitchen had three doors off of it -- one leading to a bedroom that was far nicer than anything SHIELD had to offer, another leading to a full sized bathroom, and the third to a small closet with shelves from top to bottom. It wasn’t just a _living area_ , it was a full apartment, and it would be his space for as long as he needed it.

          After looking in the bedroom and seeing his bags already there, Fitz walked back out toward the sitting area and dropped down onto the couch. He wasn’t alone yet, so he didn’t dare let his face show any emotion, but the keys were being set on the kitchen counter, and Ward was less than five minutes from leaving.

          “I want to see you in my office in the morning, just whenever you’re up, and we can work on setting up space for you in the basement. I’ll let you fend for yourself for the night -- the kitchen is fully stocked, if you’re hungry at all, and you’re welcome to anything you find here. If you need anything else, just let me know, I’ll be in my office for a few more hours.” He left without another word, and as soon as the door closed behind him, the scientist sunk back further into the cushions.

          When it came to his mission to get access to the monolith and potentially get Jemma back, he’d made leaps forward in a matter of hours, but they came at a price. _Hydra_  was the last place he wanted to turn, no matter how limited his options were. He’d expected a _no_ , to be turned away without even a proper meeting, and the fact that neither of those things happened surprised him. Grant Ward wasn’t supposed to be the helpful one -- that was _SHIELD’s_ job -- but the world seemed to be turning upside down, and everything was backwards. That was the only explanation for a situation where Hydra was doing the right thing where SHIELD had failed.


End file.
